Blackbird flies away.

She stops,
Halts in mid-air
The frozen fly
Of the raven that croaks

Ebon pale,
Calling for something
Gone,
She tores through

Deep into past-time,
Lonely bird,
You break the ribcage
Of the prison that holds you

Forever there,
In a place
Not here,
Out

Somewhere
Withouth walls
Nor sand,
A place within.

You ask me not,
You forget me not,
As though,
Names cannot be lost

In that slumbering pursuit
Of pearl-white air,
Thou came, maiden,
Fair, unspoiled.

Thou left now,
A broken host
to memories best undone,
Of to, gone to,

Places where rivers run amok
While death sleeps
And the moon dreams,
Places out of misery

High in the night-tread of silverspun webs.

I heard the call in your dreams: Please, end this.

Quiet, quiet now.

El arbol se desenmarañaba como un ejercicio de arquitectura alienigena, sus raices oscuras y pululantes embistian con euforia la tierra debil y quebrantada, no habia resistencia posible para la posesion que se permitia. Las aves, que fueran de trino alto y profundo, ahora meditaban, dando pequeños saltos sobre sus ramas con miedo a despertar a quien fuera que durmiese aqui. Inclusive el sol que conquistaba el dia no amedrentaba las ramas mas altas, la fuerte sabana de hojas verdes y salvajes resplandecia contra su luz sin inmutarse ni reprochar su destino. Como una araña que teje sus brazos, él extendia sus brazos queriendo abarcar el mundo entero, entrelazandose con el viento y el humo de la ciudad, ajeno a otros que quisieran desestimarlo o reprocharle, el existia, a pesar de nosotros.


En cambio, el miedo en mi se transformaba en respeto, yo le concedia al gigante de mi patio todo el sueño que necesitara, fuera dia o noche, el podia permanecer ahi mismo, absolutamente quieto, a la espera de alguna hora prometida o un final exhaustante, mientras que yo, vigilaba un poco distraido, con una revista en mano, y haciendo como que no habia nada de raro en todo esto.

Graveflower.

Exquisite,
The purulent beheading that transverses here,
The dying of subtlety
And the overcoming of agony.

Exquisite,
The inhalation of fumes most foul,
Remains best forgotten,
And the ignorants still lay claim,

Exquisite,
The ill-suited answer from your lips,
As though, you know what the blade conceals,
But what will i say, if your lying cannot be denied?

Exquisite,
While bleeding and torn,
It is that you utter no word or response,
No more will you plunge your disdain,

Exquisite,
The minutes of observation,
The stalking of your bones,
And all the innocent ones,

That'll know no moment of peace.

I lay the bones bare and the treason clear,
Death will ever be vigilant.

And to you, this graveflower i'll seed, for you to remember me, while the night creeps in.

Burning our bed.

And the world is on fire,
But fire burns so bright tonight!

''To those afraid of the end of the world.''